


Harvest Time

by ShirleyAnn66



Category: Jericho (US 2006)
Genre: F/M, Spoilers for everything, This was the original version of For God and Country and Heather Lisinski, another old old old fic, any spoilers for the comics is purely coincidental since this was written long before them
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-12
Updated: 2018-09-12
Packaged: 2019-07-04 16:27:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15845031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShirleyAnn66/pseuds/ShirleyAnn66
Summary: Beck/Heather making their way to each other.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you who've read For God and Country and Heather Lisinski, this is going to seem like deja vu all over again  :D .  That's because this story was the very first one I wrote that was relatively complete (the ending still seems abrupt but I honestly can't think of another way to end it (then again, maybe it just needs a sequel...). 
> 
> Where was I?  Oh, yeah.  This was the first one I wrote that was relatively complete and that I thought actually showed potential - that is, I enjoyed reading it almost as much as I'd enjoyed writing it.  However, when I began to edit it (in my notebooks at the time which meant re-writing it completely), it quickly morphed into For God and Country and Heather Lisinski which turned out be darker and more complex than this one.
> 
> The Fortress was the first story I wrote where I read it and said, "you know...this is actually kinda good".  This one was the first one I wrote where I read it and said, "this actually has potential..."  I'm incredibly fond of this story for that reason alone if nothing else.
> 
> So...the following story has Half-naked!Beck, Interloper!Anita, Drunken!Heather and is really pretty crack-ish when it comes to characterization and situations.   I hope you enjoy it anyway!!  :D
> 
>  **Disclaimer/Claimer:** I do not own nor am I affiliated with Jericho or CBS or any of the other PTB in relation to the show (although if anybody has a Major Beck just kickin' around with nothing to do, looking lonely...send him my way!). No infringement is intended. I'm just taking the characters out to play, and will do my best to show them a very, VERY good time. ;) 

***/*/*/*/***

The late summer sun beat down heavily on the heads of the people in the fields. They were harvesting the grain by hand, using scythes and an old thresher that had been restored. Beck and his men were the first wave, wielding the scythes in an orderly row. An equal number of women, mostly townspeople, followed behind, raking and loading the cut wheat into the threshing machine which they also pulled into place as they worked their way through the field.

The men were stripped to their waists and Heather found her eyes drawn again and again to Beck's strong, muscled back as he moved ahead of her, rhythmically swinging the scythe. Sweat gleamed on each muscle, making tracks through the dust that layered his torso with a fine covering of grit. Heather found the smooth interplay of his muscles mesmerizing, almost hypnotic and she found herself attempting to memorize every flex and flow.

She was working hard as well; harvesting by hand was backbreaking work, but there really was no choice. Even with the truce between the ASA, Texas and Columbus in effect, gas was still in limited supply and they couldn't afford to use it, not even for harvesting food, when they had no idea when the next shipment was coming in. More importantly, they needed the fuel to ensure the security of the area because even with the truce, Ravenwood was still around and just as dangerous as ever.

Harvesting by hand was going to take a lot of time and manpower, but it was the best solution to the problem of getting the crops off the fields. Heather tried not to let Beck's naked back distract her as she worked since they couldn't afford for even one person to fall behind. She was fascinated nonetheless and hoped he would be working in the fields with her until harvest was completed.

“That Major Beck is something else, isn't he?” a low, sultry voice said behind Heather.

Heather started and turned. It was Anita, in the water wagon. Anita was the former vice-president of the bank and a strikingly beautiful and elegant blonde. Even in the August heat, in the dust of the field, she looked beautiful and cool.

Heather stared at her, wondering how to answer and then realized Anita wasn't speaking to her but to the other woman on the water wagon.

“That he is,” the other woman answered, her tone appreciative. “Who knew  _that_  was what was hiding under those uniforms and that stoic face?”

“Let's see what else was hiding under there,” Anita said and clanged the bell to call people to the wagon.

The men ahead of Heather put down their scythes and walked to the water wagon. Heather hung back, suddenly shy at the sight of a half-naked Beck walking towards her wiping sweat from his forehead and giving her a quick half-smile when he met her eyes. She returned his smile with a bashful one of her own and then found herself watching him from the corner of her eye, admiring the grace with which he moved as well as taking in the well defined chest and abs. Heather felt rather faint and wondered if she was getting heat stroke before she realized it was just a hormone rush.

Heather gritted her teeth. She would not make the Jake-Mistake again, she vowed. She had a closer, friendlier relationship with Beck than she'd had with Jake at the time of their ill-fated kiss, and she enjoyed her job. More than that – she  _needed_  her job. It gave her purpose and focus. She couldn't – wouldn't - jeopardize either her friendship with Beck or her job just because she liked how he looked with his shirt off.

She watched as Beck smiled at Anita and her friend and thanked them for the water. Anita smiled flirtatiously back and gave Beck a second cup when he asked. Heather sighed, turned away and stretched her sore back muscles as she waited for the line to shorten before heading to the water wagon herself.

“Here,” Beck said, coming up beside her and offering her a cup of water.

Heather looked up, startled, and met his dark gaze that seemed both amused and wary. She reached out for the water. “Thank you,” she said diffidently and tried not to stare at Beck's bare chest gleaming with sweat. Heather decided she seriously needed to get a life if the sight of a half-naked man always sent her into a hormone-driven tizzy.

“Come on,” Beck said, gesturing towards where the others were sitting under a temporary tarpaulin shelter that had been set up to provide momentary relief from the hot Kansas sun, “let's get into the shade for a minute or two.” She nodded and fell into step beside him.

“How are you holding up?” he asked.

“I'm fine,” Heather replied quickly. “Exhausted, stiff and sore, but otherwise just fine.”

Beck gave her a half-smile. “It's only the first day. By the third day, you'll be numb.”

Heather flexed her fingers. “Even the blisters?” she joked.

Beck stopped in his tracks. “Let me see,” he commanded and frowned at the angry blisters forming on her hands. “I'll have the medic give you some salve and I'll have the supply sergeant find some work gloves for you.”

“Enough for everybody?” Heather asked drily.

Beck hesitated.

“That's what I thought.” Heather shook her head. “No work gloves, but I would be grateful for salve or bandages or something like that so long as there's enough for everyone.”

Beck nodded reluctantly and they resumed their walk towards the others. Before they got to the tarpaulin, Heather saw Anita coming towards them, her eyes locked on Beck.

“Major Beck,” Anita called as she approached.

Beck frowned, concerned. “Anita,” he greeted coolly.

Anita smiled charmingly at him. “I was hoping to have a chance to chat with you on your break,” she said.

“Oh? Well, Captain Clark can help you with any official business that can't wait until harvest is completed. He'll consult with me if it's necessary.”

Anita shook her head. “Not official business,” she laughed and gave him a look from under her lashes, “just an opportunity to get to know each other.” She put a hand on Beck's arm and began to gently lead him away from Heather and the others. If Heather hadn't felt so forlorn, she would have laughed at the look on Beck's face.

“Know each other?” Beck echoed, and he sounded so flabbergasted Heather couldn't help the small bubble of laughter that escaped her.

“Outside of our respective roles as town guardian and banker,” Anita clarified with a meaningful look and a smooth stroke of her hand up his upper arm. “We've known each other for months and we've never actually... _talked_.”

Is that what the kids are calling it these days, Heather thought sourly even as she reluctantly admired the other woman's courage and technique in pursuing what she obviously wanted. It was perhaps a bit heavy-handed but there was no mistaking Anita's interest or her intentions.

“That's true,” Beck said briskly, stopping in his tracks. “Perhaps we can get together on our next break, but right now, I have things to discuss with Heather.” With a charming smile, he reached out and grasped Heather's bare arm as she was edging past him. Heather came to a halt, self-consciously aware she was hindering Anita's plans, but even more aware of the feel and heat of Beck's hand on her bare flesh. She was also dimly aware of the interested looks they were receiving from the others under the tarp.

Anita gave Heather a quickly assessing look then met Heather's eyes with a look that clearly dismissed her as a rival, which made Heather feel even more grimy and sweaty, her tank top already filthy and soaked with perspiration.

Heather burned with embarrassment as Anita turned her charming smile to Beck again. “I'll hold you to that,” she purred. “I'll find you at the next break.”

Beck nodded. “I look forward to it,” he said politely.

Heather and Beck watched Anita gracefully stroll back to the water wagon, flashing a flirtatious smile over one shapely shoulder.

“She's very beautiful,” Heather said helpfully after the silence between them went on a beat too long.

Beck turned his intense brown eyes towards Heather. “Yes, she is,” he agreed. “Now, I'm very rusty at this,” he continued, his tone neutral, “but do you think she was coming on to me?”

Heather gaped at him. “Are you serious?” she finally squeaked. “She did everything but throw you down and jump you right here!” Thankfully, she remembered to lower her voice.

Beck gave her a slow, masculine smile, his eyes never leaving hers. “That sounds intriguing,” he murmured.

Heather blinked at him, then raised her eyebrow and gave him a long assessing look, particularly at the well defined bare chest and shook her head sadly.

“What?” he asked, still smiling, but his eyes wide.

“Sounds intriguing except for the dirt, and stubble is bery painful.”

Beck leaned closer. “Depends on where and how it's used,” he murmured huskily in her ear. He straightened and grinned at her. “And now you're blushing.”

Heather glared at him haughtily, feeling her face burn. “What did you want to speak to me about?” she asked briskly.

Beck's grin widened and Heather blinked. He seemed so relaxed and open, and not just because he was half-naked.

“Nothing,” Beck admitted. “But I wasn't going to leave you standing here alone while I went off with her. Although if I had known she would have had her wicked way with me, right now, here in the stubble -”

“Oh!” Heather huffed and laughed at him. This was a totally different Beck to the cool, controlled Major she was used to. Heather didn't quite know how to react and she could feel hers attraction deepening. Useless, she thought with disgust, not to mention stupid.

After another ten minutes spent under the tarpaulin with the rest of the workers, engaging in a combination of idle chit chat and setting goals for the next few hours, they got back to work. Once again, Heather found herself sneaking peeks at Beck as much as possible, given her own tasks. She felt awash in her body's reaction to the sight of his bare back; his ass in his comfortable jeans; the smooth movement of his muscles under his gleaming skin. It was probably the most erotic and sensuous sight she had ever seen. After struggling with herself for several hours, Heather finally gave in and decided she may as well relax and enjoy herself. Harvest would be over soon enough and once it was done, she wasn't going to see Beck out of his shirt again any time soon. If ever. She had to get her cheap thrills while she could, Heather thought, and she might as well enjoy herself without guilt – she was only human after all. Besides, she was probably this fascinated only because she wasn't used to it yet. Once she was used to him working shirtless with her for hours and days on end, she probably wouldn't even notice anymore.

And she was pretty sure there was a bridge for sale in Brooklyn, too.

The water wagon returned about two hours later. Once again, Beck brought Heather a drink and she smiled shyly as she accepted it.

“Let me see your hands,” he ordered brusquely and he inspected first one, then the other, frowning fiercely. “Corporal Bernstein,” he barked. A young soldier shot up from where he had been sitting beside a young woman.

“Sir?”

“Run back to Jericho and get the medic.” Beck glanced at the young woman the soldier had been sitting with. “Ask the medic to bring salve and gauze, or something else that can be used for bandages, to protect people's hands. We'll keep working as much as possible scything, but those who are threshing will stop until the medic has treated them.”

“Yes, sir,” the soldier said and started jogging in the direction of Jericho.

“Bernstein!” Beck called and the corporal paused and turned back to him. Beck glanced at the young woman and back at the corporal, raising an eyebrow. The corporal flushed, and then grinned and returned to the young woman. What he said was too quiet to overhear, but the young woman smiled at him and nodded.

Heather watched the interplay with interest, then turned her attention back to Beck, who was staring at her intently.

“I have to speak with Anita,” Beck murmured, his eyes never leaving hers. “I promised her.”

Heather nodded, her blue eyes clear. “I remember,” Heather said with a determinedly friendly grin. “She's a beautiful woman. You'll enjoy yourself and maybe it's the start of something new.”

Heather held onto her smile with an effort as Beck cocked his head and frowned at her. He opened his mouth but seemed to think twice before speaking. “Perhaps you're right,” he agreed mildly. “There's certainly the  _feel_ of something new in the air.” He glanced at the young woman who had been sitting with Corporal Bernstein and then smiled at Heather. “Enjoy your break.”

Heather nodded and watched him walk away. With an inward sigh, she smiled at the young woman Corporal Bernstein had left behind and went over to join her.

And so the days went by. Heather's hands grew callouses, her body adjusted to the work and her muscles stopped aching after several days. Beck working shirtless in the sun became a daily sight and it never failed to make Heather sigh inwardly with feminine appreciation. It seemed to inspire Anita as well, since she made a point of having at least one private conversation with him per day. Heather suspected Beck was secretly amused by Anita's attention even as he seemed to enjoy it.

Who wouldn't, Heather thought, wiping sweat from her forehead and leaving a smear of mud. Anita was beautiful and very obviously attracted to him. She was working hard, like everyone else, but Anita always managed to look cool and feminine no matter what she was doing. Even Emily got dirty once in awhile, Heather thought sourly, watching Anita laughing up at Beck. She looked away quickly when Beck glanced over at her. With a sigh, Heather finished the water Beck had, as usual, brought to her and then she carefully laid down on the ground.

They had finished the wheat and moved on to the corn so Heather was effectively hidden and in the shade when she laid down between the rows. Heather put her arm over her eyes and listened to the sound of birds and the murmur of voices as the people working in the fields chatted quietly about the progress of the harvest. There were sometimes the low masculine tones and feminine replies of couples sparking, to use her grandmother's old fashioned term. Heather smiled to herself at the sound.

Even in the midst of death, destruction and crisis, people fell in love and planned – or at least hoped – for a future. Perhaps in some ways it was a reaffirmation of life; for Heather, it was a symbol of hope. Hope for the future. Hope for a better world. And then she wondered why nobody seemed to want to spark with her and quickly pushed the thought aside.

“What are you thinking?”

Heather started and moved her arm from across her eyes to see Beck looking rather spectacularly masculine standing over her.

“Is it time to go back to work?” Heather blurted, sitting up.

“No, no,” Beck made soothing motions. “If you'll move over a bit, I'll sit down with you.”

Heather shifted over and Beck settled himself on the ground beside her.

“Where's Anita?” Heather heard herself ask, her arm back over her eyes.

“She had to go back to town,” Beck replied idly, his arm folded beneath his head.

“I'm sorry,” Heather said.

“Why?”

“Well -” Heather hesitated and then plunged on. “She's a very beautiful woman and obviously interested in you. This is a great opportunity to get to know her.”

Beck was silent for long moments staring idly up at the sky. “Yes,” he said slowly, “she is a beautiful woman and obviously interested.”

Heather continued. “And she's charming, intelligent and witty.”

“So she is,” Beck agreed. “You seem very anxious for me to like her. Do you think I should pursue her until she catches me?”

Heather turned her head, acutely aware of him lying beside her, his bare shoulders lightly brushing her own. Beck turned his head and looked at her, and she felt herself drowning in the warm brown depths of his eyes. Heather was again dimly aware of the sound of male and female voices around them.

“I think...” she said slowly, her gaze locked with his, “that everyone deserves a little human comfort, especially in the world we now live in. If you are attracted to her; if she makes you feel... _something_ , if she makes you feel  _alive_ , then I think you should follow the road wherever it leads. Everyone deserves to be happy.”

Beck rolled onto his side and propped his head on his hand while he held her gaze for a long silent moment. “Heather -”

Whatever he was about to say was interrupted by the clanging bell, calling everyone back to work. Beck sighed and scrambled to his feet, as did Heather.

“Here,” she said, “you have clumps of dirt on your back,” and she brushed the dirt away, willing herself not to linger over the task. She noticed the shiver run through Beck's muscles. “I'm sorry,” she said, “did I tickle you?”

“No,” Beck said, and turned to her. “Turn around; let me see if you need to be brushed down.”

Heather turned and he brushed her down, and it was her turn to shiver. He put his hands on her shoulders and leaned forward, warm against her back “You give good advice, Heather,” he murmured into her ear. “I'm going to do my best to follow my particular road – wherever it may go. If the lady is willing.” He released her and moved back, and she turned to face him, frowning.

“The lady is obviously willing,” she said, puzzled.

Beck simply laughed, making her even more puzzled, then turned to lead the way back to where they had left off the harvest.

*/*/*/*/*


	2. Chapter 2

Another two weeks of backbreaking labour passed. Heather was in great physical shape, but exhausted. She realized that pairs had formed in the harvesters between the soldiers and the townspeople. She had run into Corporal Bernstein and his lady at Bailey's the other night, and had seen Beck and Anita there just the night before. Beck had politely invited her to join them, and she just as politely refused, noticing that Anita barely acknowledged her presence. Heather was shocked at the intensity of the jolt of jealousy that shot through her when she saw the two of them together. When Heather got home that night she looked in her mirror and wondered when her natural appreciation of Beck's looks had turned into this intense attraction that seemed to be burning constantly and what on earth could she possibly do about it.

Tonight, as she headed to Bailey's, she was determined not to care if she saw Beck and Anita there again. She was meeting Jake and Emily for a drink, and then heading for bed; tomorrow was another day of hard work. But they only had one more field after the current one and the harvest would be completed; another three days of work, if the weather held.

The first person she saw was Beck; the second was Anita. Beck nodded a greeting and she nodded back with a shy smile. Mary then called her name and Heather went to her.

“Emily popped in, said she was going to be late. But Jake's here.” Mary nodded to the corner booth where Jake and Eric sat nursing some moonshine and chatting casually.

Heather thanked Mary and made some small talk while Mary made Heather's usual small shot of liquor mixed with lots of water.

Heather then went to the corner booth and slid in beside Eric. “Hey, guys,” she said.

“Hey, Heather,” they greeted and enfolded her into their conversation about the town supplies, crime rate and other issues. Heather listened intelligently, asked appropriate questions and made some helpful suggestions.

“Whoops,” Eric said, “I think Mary needs me.” Heather let him out then slid back into the booth.

“How are you, Heather?” Jake asked, his eyes intent on her tired face.

“Exhausted. But we're almost done. Beck has already said I can have a week off once the harvest is finished. What about you?”

“The same. I'm sorry I haven't been able to help in the fields. All I can say is thank God for Beck's men!”

Heather nodded. “I know. We wouldn't have a hope of getting done if it weren't for them.” Heather took a sip of her drink and grimaced. “My God, I miss beer,” she sighed.

Jake laughed. “Me, too. Maybe that's the next task for you. How can we make beer?”

Heather looked thoughtful. “Or wine?” she said, then grinned. “Anything but this homebrew all the time.”

Jake nodded and raised his glass. “To better booze tomorrow,” he said. Heather laughed and they clinked glasses. Jake glanced around the busy bar and frowned.

“What?” Heather asked.

“Wow, Beck looked really pissed for a second.”

Heather followed his gaze, but Beck looked as calm as always from what she could see.

“At Anita?” she squeaked.

“No – he was glaring at me. I don't think I've done anything wrong.”

“Well, you haven't blown anything up, or shot anything for awhile,” Heather said thoughtfully, “or are you holding out on me?” she teased, a wide grin on her face.

Jake laughed back. “You'd be the first to know if I had!” He glanced over at Beck and Anita. “He's doing it again,” Jake marvelled.

Heather frowned and turned to look at Beck again and met his blazing eyes. She quickly spun back to Jake. “You're right,” she hissed. “He looks...”

“Murderous?”

“Yes! What on earth -”

Jake was looking thoughtful. “You know,” he said slowly, “I wonder...”

“Wonder what?” Heather prompted when Jake didn't continue.

“Nothing,” Jake said, focusing back on her. “You've heard the town is planning to start restoring all the old equipment out at the museum once the harvest is over?”

“What? No,” Heather said.

“It's Gray's idea – well, now that you've shown him it can really be done. You did most of the work on that thresher you guys were using.”

“Hmmm,” Heather said thoughtfully. “It won't be easy. We may not be able to jerryrig repairs on everything. Has anybody completed an assessment of what's needed?”

Jake looked a little uncomfortable. “Actually, Gray wants your help with that as soon you're finished with the harvest.”

“ _My_  help?” Heather repeated, stunned. “Why me?”

“Well, you've proven you can do it, which is more than anybody else in town can say. Plus you're the best organizer we have – you're the one who coordinated the harvesting effort in the first place and got all the farmers to agree. You'd be a whiz at coordinating the work as well as finding or making parts. You're also pretty creative so if anybody can come up with a solution -”

“Enough! You don't need to suck up to me.”

Jake grinned at her. “Thanks. Gray was also kicking around the thought of throwing a party for you guys when you're done. You know, say thanks and maybe use it as a way to really show Beck and his men that we're glad they're here.”

Heather smiled. “That'd be nice. And it's pretty big of you to support the idea,” she cautiously added.

Jake shrugged uncomfortably. “Yeah, well - Beck has done right by us ever since he saw the light. He and Hawkins have kept this town safe – at great risk to themselves.”

Heather reached over and covered Jake's hand with hers. “So have you,” she said softly.

Jake gave a half-hearted smile and squeezed her fingers. “You've always had faith in me,” he said leaning forward, his voice low and husky. “That's -”

“May we join you?”

Both Jake and Heather looked up, startled. Beck and an obviously disgruntled Anita were standing beside the table.

“Sure,” Jake said quickly. Heather slid over and Beck slid beside her, with Anita on the edge of the seat.

“You were looking very intense,” Anit said with a meaningful glance at Beck. “I hope we're not interrupting something.”

Heather frowned and shook her head. “No,” she said slowly. “We were talking, that's all.”

“About how much we miss beer,” Jake added, his smile challenging them to question his statement.

“And wine,” Heather added.

“Wine,” Anita said with a throaty moan. “Oh, I miss that, too. Any chance of getting a supply for me from somewhere, Edward?” she purred, leaning into him seductively and stroking her fingers lightly down his arm.

Both Jake and Heather stared.

Beck looked uncomfortable. “Chances are no,” her replied coolly enough, “but my supply sergeant is a whizz at finding supplies. I'll ask him to see what he can do.”

“Thank you,” Anita smiled coyly, “I'll definitely make it worth your while.” She dropped a light kiss on his cheek. “I have to leave for a moment,” she murmured with another smile, “but I'll be right back.”

She slid out of the booth and sashayed towards the ladies' bathroom.

“Wow,” Jake said after a moment of stunned silence.

“Yes,” Beck said drily.

“ _Edward_?!” Heather squeaked.

“It  _is_  my name,” Beck said, “but I prefer to be called Beck.”

“ _Wow_ ,” Jake said again, staring at Beck with wide eyes. “You poor bastard!”

Heather frowned at Jake. “Hey! She's just...” Heather hesitated.

“Trying way too hard?” Jake asked.

Heather squirmed uncomfortably. “She must really like you,” she said to Beck, trying not to notice that Beck's leg was almost touching hers. If she didn't get out of this booth soon, she would need another drink, she thought.

“I think she just wants a notch on her bedpost,” Beck said drily.

“Beck!” Heather gasped.

“Heather, she's doing everything but stripping down and taking him on the table!”

“Jake!” Heather admonished.

“It's true,” Jake said. “It's not comfortable to be chased that blatantly,” he added.

“Is that how you felt about me?” Heather shot at him.

Both Jake and Beck blinked. “What?” Jake said.

“I kissed you right on Main Street and then you didn't talk to me for a month. Was that why? Because I chased you too blatantly?”

Jake stared at Heather and Beck glared at Jake. Jake slowly shook his head. “No, that's not why,” he said softly.

“Then what was it?” Heather challenged.

“You were sweet and innocent and hopeful and I didn't deserve you. I wasn't the man you thought I was and I knew I would only hurt you in the end. I thought – I hoped - it was better to hurt you a little in the beginning, with the possibility you would forgive me, rather than have you hate me in the end.”

Heather stared at him with her clear, honest blue eyes. “Thank you,” she said as Anita rejoined the table.

“What did I miss?” Anita asked brightly.

“Nothing,” Beck said hastily. “Reminiscing.”

“Oh,” Anita said and proceeded to be extremely charming to both men while reluctantly including Heather. She had toned down her blatant come-ons to Beck and Heather wondered if she had heard part of the conversation as she walked away. Anita was also an intelligent woman; she could read Beck's expressions as well as Heather could.

Heather tried to ignore Beck's presence beside her, but when Emily came and pushed Jake over, Heather had to move even closer to Beck to accommodate her and her leg kept bumping into his under the table. She kept trying to shift away from him but she kept bumping into Jake, who began giving her odd looks the more often it happened. Heather was starting to feel more and more flustered, until after one such bump, Beck turned to her, reached under the table and grasped her knee. She gave a violent start.

“Sorry – cramp,” she said in response to everyone's questioning looks.

Beck leaned over and whispered, “It's okay. I don't bite.”

Heather did her best to relax, even though the feel of Beck's hand on her knee lingered long after his hand was gone.

The group dispersed soon after. Everyone was tired and tomorrow was another day of hard work. Heather wasn't sure how it happened, and she was sure Anita was equally puzzled, but Beck ended up leaving with Heather and Anita was escorted by Jake and Emily.

Jake said good-night to Heather with a gleam of amusement in his eyes, which Heather took to be amusement at Anita's expense.

Beck and Heather ambled along for awhile in silence.

“I can hear you thinking,” Beck said, his voice amused. “Ask me what you want to ask me.”

Heather stared at him, startled. Then she sighed and nodded. “If you're not interested in Anita, why do you take her to dinner every night? You're basically stringing her along. Are you sure you're not the one looking for a notch on the bedpost?”

Beck chuckled slightly. “Well, you always do get straight to the point.” He sighed. “I don't take her to dinner every night. She's obviously paid attention to my schedule and she always happens to arrive at the office just as I'm ready to leave. Then, since we're both going to Bailey's at the same time -”

“You may as well eat together.”

Beck shrugged. “Better than eating alone. Sometimes. To Anita's credit, she's not always like she was earlier tonight. On the other hand, she's also been...” he hesitated, searching for the right term.

“She's also been -?” Heather prompted.

“Even more blatant,” he said slowly. “I honestly think she's very lonely and very afraid, even now when the truce is in place and we've been relatively peaceful.” Beck looked thoughtful. “You know, I think I may introduce her to my supply sergeant. I think they might hit it off.”

Heather chuckled, then pondered the idea. “You know, you might be right,” she nodded.

“Are you holding up okay?” Beck asked, breaking the comfortable silence that had fallen between them for the last few minutes.

Heather nodded. “Of course,” she replied. “You've asked me that every day,” she added with a smile to take any implied sting out of her words.

“I know. But you're so...” Beck paused.

“I'm so what?” Heather asked curiously.

“You seem so fragile,” Beck said slowly, “I'm always worried the fieldwork will be too much.”

“Fragile?” Heather echoed.

“I'm sorry – have I offended you?”

“Fragile?” Heather repeated. “You think I'm  _fragile_?”

“I  _have_  offended you,” Beck sighed. “I'm sorry.”

“No, no, I'm not offended,” Heather replied and digested this in silence. “Thank you,” she said finally.

“For?”

“I'm a tomboy – always have been,” she said, her voice slightly stunned. “No one has ever called me fragile before or worried that the work might be too much for me. I mean, I'm more likely to have grease under my nails than polish on top of them.”

Beck gave her a half smile. “That has nothing to do with it,” he said.

“Thank you,” Heather repeated, and gave him her mega-watt smile.

Beck smiled back, his eyes warm and they finished their walk in silence.

The next three days continued the pattern set by the previous weeks, only now Heather tried to watch Beck as much as possible to memorize the look of his body and the sleek grace of his muscles as they moved beneath his skin. Harvest would soon be over and she wouldn't see Beck out of uniform again until next year – if he was still in Jericho. Heather quickly shut down that thought. It was bad enough that she wouldn't see Beck half-naked anymore, to think about never seeing him at all was too much.

She noticed Anita no longer cornered Beck for private conversations, but instead greeted him pleasantly, served him water and let him go. Heather finally asked him what was going on at the end of the second day and Beck told her he had introduced Anita to his supply sergeant and he'd been right – Anita had turned her attention to the supply sergeant instead. Heather was inordinately relieved at the news since the other possibility – that Anita had gotten her notch on the bedpost and now the novelty had worn off – made her stomach churn.

Heather knew her feelings toward Beck were shifting from pure lust to something more. The lust was powerful, and enjoyable, but it was mixed with a genuine emotional connection to the man within the body. Heather could only hope these new feelings would fade once they were back in their usual roles and Beck was back in uniform.

On the last day of harvest, as the last wagonload of corn headed into Jericho, everyone in the field began to cheer as it drove out of sight. It reminded Heather of New Year's Eve, as everyone whooped and hugged and kissed each other. Beck picked Heather up in a bear hug and spun her around, his face alight with joy. He planted a hard, celebratory kiss on her lips, then hugged her again before Heather was plucked from Beck's arms and, like all the other women who had worked in the fields, she was hugged and kissed by each man on the team and left flushed and laughing.

“Listen!” Heather called, as people began to head off to town, “let's get to Bailey's – the first round's on Major Beck!”

“Hey!” Beck protested as the group laughed and cheered.

Heather laughed up at him. “The second round's on me!” she said and the group cheered louder.

The group walked into town, talking and laughing. The work had been hard, but they had gotten it done and now the town would have enough food for the winter and the harvesters felt justified in celebrating their achievement. And it was something to remember and a story to share with their children.

They trooped into Bailey's, dusty, dirty, half-naked and in high spirits.

“Hey, hey, hey!” Mary called out as they tumbled in the door.

“We're done, Mary!” Heather called, her mega-watt grin lighting up the dim confines of the bar. “Your finest shine for everybody!”

Mary laughed and glanced at Beck, then did a double-take. “Holy crap,” she blurted, her eyes wide, “now I know what put Anita in such a tizzy.”

Heather was amused and pleased to see Beck actually blush. “And now you're blushing,” she whispered to him. He shot her a mock glare but then laughed himself.

“I like to think I put all the women in a tizzy, Mary,” he teased as he swaggered to the bar.

Mary did a mock swoon and then laughed at him. “As enjoyable as this is,” Mary said, “I'm gonna need help from all the muscles in the room.”

Several of the men started forward to join Beck.

“I meant the ladies!” Mary called. The women whooped and laughed, then followed Mary to the cellar where she said, “I have a surprise.” She flung open the storage room door and the women gasped.

“Beer!” Heather sighed almost reverentially.

Mary grinned. “Yes! Arrived last night.”

“But how? Where?” Heather asked, stunned.

“Don't ask – but Beck got it somehow.”

“Beck?” Heather exclaimed.

Mary nodded. “He said something about people missing beer, so he sent his men on a mission. I didn't ask questions, I just kissed him. But he insisted the harvesters got the first crack at it.”

Heather just stared at Mary. “Wow,” she whispered.

“I know! Now grab a couple cases and let's get back upstairs.”

The women quickly did as Mary asked and were greeted by whoops when the men saw what they carried. Beck, now wearing his t-shirt, Heather was sad to see, hastened forward and took the beer from her hands.

“Were you surprised?” he asked, his eyes hopeful, his smile almost shy.

Heather grinned at him and impulsively flung her arms around his neck and gave him a fierce hug. “Thank you,” she said. “You have no idea how much this means to me.”

Beck, his hands full of beer, bent his head into her shoulder. “You're welcome,” he said.

Heather stepped back and grinned at him. “Let's have a beer,” she said.

Beck nodded and moved to put the cases on the bar then picked up the bottles Mary had already opened for the harvesters.

When everyone had a drink in their hands, Beck raised his bottle. “A toast – to a job well done!”

Everyone raised their bottles or glasses and cheered and drank deeply of their first beer in months. Heather closed her eyes in bliss at the taste. When she opened her eyes, she met Beck's serious gaze. She swallowed quickly and asked, “What?”

Beck slowly shook his head. “Nothing,” he said softly. “Let's sit,” he invited and they sat at the tables the others had pulled together.

The night was far advanced when Beck and Heather left Bailey's. Bailey's had quickly filled up when news of the beer got out. The jukebox had blared until the band arrived and people had danced regardless of what song was playing. The hard work of restoring the old equipment was looming on Heather's horizon – but that was something she'd worry about tomorrow. For now, she was happily drunk – very drunk – and being escorted home by a very handsome man.

And a tolerant one, she thought fuzzily as she staggered into him, and he put an arm around her to guide her. She wrapped an arm around his waist to steady herself and was laughing up at him when they bumped into Anita. Heather barely noticed the dismissive glance Anita gave her and she paid no attention to the small talk Anita made with Beck. Heather just leaned more and more heavily against Beck's side, trying to keep her balance and falling asleep.

Beck gently shook her awake. She dimly heard him say, “Sorry, Anita, we have to keep going,” and then they were walking again.

At Heather's place, Beck asked for and got Heather's key and Beck maneuvered her into the house and put her on the couch. Heather smiled at him, sweetly drunk and exhausted and Beck knelt on the floor beside her.

“Will you be okay?” he asked. “You're very drunk.”

“Oh, yeah,” she said, “I'll be fine.” She smiled at him, then clumsily raised her hand to his face and caressed his cheek. She enjoyed the rasp of stubble against her palm and fingertips, her face suddenly serious.

“Thank you,” she said softly. “For everything.”

Beck's eyes seemed darker than ever. “Heather,” he said tightly, “are you going to remember anything in the morning?”

She slowly shook her head. “Probably not,” she said.

“Okay,” Beck sighed, lowered his head and kissed her. The kiss was hard and demanding and shocking to Heather in its intensity. When his tongue demanded entrance to her mouth, she could do nothing –  _wanted_  to do nothing – else but grant him entrance. She clung to him and rode the kiss as it became hotter and more devouring, kissing him back as hungrily as he kissed her. She cried out in protest when he abruptly broke the kiss.

She opened glazed eyes to see Beck panting for breath. “Why are you stopping?” Heather asked blurrily.

“Not remembering a kiss is one thing; not remembering sex is another.”

“Oh,” she said, her eyes wide and vulnerable, her lips swollen and red. She heard Beck groan softly.

“I'm going to get you a blanket,” he said. “You'll probably be asleep when I get back.”

“Beck -” Heather said, struggling to sit up.

“Go to sleep,” Beck said brusquely but not unkindly. “If you remember this in the morning, we'll talk.”

“Okay,” Heather said, closed her eyes and went to sleep.

*/*/*/*/*


	3. Chapter 3

When Heather awoke, her mouth was fuzzy, her stomach was queasy and her head was pounding. With a groan, she opened her eyes and frowned blurrily at the ceiling, squinting against the bright light of day. She cautiously sat up and was relieved to note that the room wasn't spinning too badly.

She got up from the couch, and realized she was still covered in grit from the fields and still wearing the clothes she had worn in the field the day before.

“First things first,” she thought and made her way to the bathroom. When she emerged, she had showered and brushed her teeth, using a sparse amount of her “real” toothpaste. She thought the occasion called for it, based on the amount of fuzzies she could feel growing on her teeth.

Wrapped in her father's old flannel dressing gown, she shuffled to the kitchen and cautiously drank a glass of water. When it didn't immediately make a reappearance, she drank a second, downing two of her carefully hoarded Tylenol with it as well. It really  _was_  a special occasion, she thought, as she shuffled back to the couch and tried to recall the previous evening.

She winced at the knock on the door. The Tylenol hadn't had much chance to work. She laid on the couch and hoped whoever it was would go away. A second knocking, louder than before, made her sit up with a groan and open the front door, squinting against the sun.

Beck and Emily stood on the doorstep. Even in her fragile state, Heather was saddened to note that Beck was back in full uniform.

“Hi?” she croaked.

Beck couldn't quite hide his amusement. “How are you feeling?” he asked.

“Like shit on a stick,” Heather groaned. “ _Please_  tell me you don't need me.”

Beck's eyes warmed. “Not today,” he said. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

Heather carefully stepped back and let Beck and Emily into the house. “What time is it?” she asked.

“Noon,” Beck said. “I thought it was time to check on you and I ran into Emily on the way here.”

Emily avidly watched the two of them talking. “I heard you'd tied one on,” she said brightly, “and I wanted to hear all about it.”

“I don't remember a whole lot,” Heather mumbled as she led the way back to the livingroom and lowered herself onto the couch. “What did I do?”

“Nothing much,” Beck said. “There  _was_  that little dance on top of the bar, but we managed to find almost all your clothes afterwards.”

Heather squinted at him, frowning. “ _Almost_  all?” she asked.

Beck nodded solemnly. “But I'm pretty sure I can persuade the men to give them up if you want.”

Heather gave a reluctant smile. “You're so sweet,” she muttered. She frowned at him again with a puzzled face.

“What's wrong?” Beck asked, an odd tone to his voice.

“I'm just...” Heather said slowly, “I think there's something I should remember...”

“Well, maybe it'll come back to you,” Beck said briskly. He glanced at Emily. “I only came by to check on you, make sure you were alright. And to tell you we have extra Tylenol at the office if you need any.”

“Thanks,” Heather groaned, closing her eyes. “If I ever recover enough to actually walk anywhere, I'll be there.”

Beck laughed softly and left the two women alone.

There was a long silence after Beck left, and Heather finally opened her eyes and frowned at Emily. “What?” she growled.

“ _What_  is going with you and Beck?” Emily asked eagerly.

“What? Nothing!” Heather blurted and then frowned. There was something...she shook her head, groaned, and refocused on Emily. “Why do you ask?”

“Anita said you were hanging all over him last night!”

“I was?” Heather squeaked, her eyes widening in mortification. “When? Where? At  _Bailey's_?”

“No – out in the street. She ran into you two after you left Bailey's and she said you were practically wrapped around him.”

“Oh. My. God.” Heather said slowly. “Oh. My.  _GOD_!” She covered her face with her hands.

“Don't you  _remember_?” Emily asked.

“You know how I am after a drunk, Emily! I barely remember anything. And that's usually the way I like it. Oh. My.  _God_!” A look of horror crossed Heather's face.

“What?” Emily said.

“I...I think I  _kissed_  him!”

“No!” Emily gasped.

“Oh, God,” Heather moaned. “No  _wonder_  he dropped by! He was probably going to fire me but decided not to do it in front of you.”

Emily shook her head. “He woudn't fire you – he needs you too much. Besides, how do you know he wasn't just here to, you know, talk about it and clear the air? Let you know he didn't hold it against you?”

Heather groaned again. She could vaguely remember the feel of her lips on his, her tongue in his mouth. She was hungover and mortified, and she would have to apologize and hope he would still trust her.

“I am never drinking again,” Heather moaned, covering her face with her hands. “I'm never going near a man again! I'll enter a convent!”

“You're not Catholic,” Emily pointed out.

“I'll convert!”

“So why do you think you kissed him?”

Heather frowned. “Do you mean why did I do it, or why do I think I did it?”

“Why did you do it?” Emily clarified. “I mean, it's  _Beck_! He's not exactly the most popular guy in town.”

“For now,” Heather replied. “Have you seen him when he's not in that crappy uniform? Ask Mary when you see her. He's quite a sight without his shirt.”

“As good as Jake?” Emily teased.

Heather stared at her. “Better than Jake,” she sighed. “I've had to watch that naked chest and back for weeks – no wonder I snapped. And those eyes! Not to mention the lips. And the way he walks...and have I mentioned his ass? That's the ass of a man in peak physical condition! Why are you looking at me like that?”

“You've got it bad,” Emily stated. “You're as much in lust with him as Anita.”

“More,” Heather sighed, “but I can control it when I'm sober. I obviously can't when I'm drunk! I mean, nothing – not one inappropriate touch while we were working in the fields. And you have  _no_  idea how tough  _that_  was! Oh, God! How  _humiliating_!”

“What are you going to do?” Emily asked.

“I'm going to get over my hangover, and then I'll go to the office and apologize. Ask him not to fire me. Promise never to do it again. And I will never drink again.”

“What about the convent?”

“I'm not Catholic,” Heather replied absently. “Is it possible to die from mortification?”

“No.”

“Shit.”

When Heather appeared late that afternoon at Beck's door, she looked and felt more human, but she also looked nervous and afraid.

Beck glanced up and gave her a half smile. “Need Tylenol?” he asked.

“No,” Heather said, and shut the door.

Beck's gaze sharpened. “What is it?” he asked. “What's wrong?”

Heather stood in front of his desk, wringing her hands. “I...I think...I think I remember kissing you last night and I'm here to apologize and to assure you that I didn't know what I was doing and it won't happen again because I'm never drinking again, although I'll give the convent a miss, and please don't fire me because you need me and I do a damn fine job, and I was drunk and you can't really blame a girl for stuff she does when she's drunk and besides it was just a kiss and it's not like either of us are married – oh God, I'm sorry – but you know what I mean although that's really no excuse for my behavior and I'm really, really sorry and why are you  _laughing_?”

Beck made an obvious effort to contain his amusement. “Heather,” he said calmly although his lips were fighting against a full-blown grin, “I can assure you that you did not kiss me.”

Heather stared at him. “Then...then who  _did_  I kiss?”

“You did not initiate any kisses with anybody,” Beck said solemnly.

“But Emily said...”

Beck raised an eyebrow. “What did Emily say?”

“That Anita saw us in the street and I was hanging all over you.”

“I was trying to keep you on your feet! You weren't hanging all over me – you were passing out.”

Heather stared at him, her blue eyes clear and puzzled. “But why -” she paused.

“Why what?” Beck asked.

Heather frowned. “I seem to remember kissing – well, if not you, then somebody. Why would I -”

“You probably dreamed it,” Beck shrugged. “Besides,” he added, tilting his head and looking at her with interest, “why would you kiss me, anyway?”

Heather struggled to keep her eyes locked on his. She licked her lips and said weakly, “Because you were there?”

Beck's smile held little humour. “Well, now I'm a mountain,” he sighed. “You did nothing to be embarrassed about,” he assured her gently, “you still have a job; I do need you; you'll drink again once your head stops pounding, and a convent would be a poor place for you to end up.”

“Okay,” Heather said softly. “I'm...just...going to go...have a holiday,” she said, backing towards the door.

“I'll see you back at work in a week,” Beck agreed.

Heather nodded awkwardly and bolted from the office.

Mary patted Heather on the back, as Heather sat with her head buried in her arms at a table at Bailey's.

“I'm so pathetic,” Heather moaned. “He must think I'm a lunatic.”

Mary exchanged a glance with Emily, who sat on the other side of Heather. “I'm sure he doesn't,” Mary soothed. “Maybe a little crazy, but not a  _lunatic_.”

Heather raised her head and glared. “You're not helping.”

“Heather, you're a hurtin' unit,” Mary said. “You misremembered what happened last night, and you did what you thought you had to to make things right. Beck will respect that.”

“But now – won't he suspect that I'm not...indifferent to him?”

“You told him you probably would have kissed him because he was there – he probably just thinks you're...you know...missing sex.”

“Well, I am,” Heather admitted, “but it's all because of  _him_. Why did he have to look so  _good_  with his shirt off?”

“And his eyes?” Mary asked.

“His lips?” Emily chimed in.

“Not to mention his ass?” Mary added.

Heather glared at them both.

“Again – not helping.”

“Sorry,” Mary muttered. “But there's not much I can offer you. He did resist Anita, though – for three weeks. And there were nights I thought she was going to throw him on the bar and do him right there.”

“I would have killed her,” Heather snarled. “Beck deserves somebody better than that.”

Mary stared past Heather's shoulder when the door opened. “But I guess he doesn't want better than that,” she said softly as Beck and Anita came into the bar.

Heather groaned, but sat up straight and reached for the glass of water in front of her, and refused to turn around. Mary got up and went to meet them.

“Hi, guys,” she greeted. “What can I do for you?”

“We're here for supper,” Beck said briskly.

“Sure thing,” Mary said. “Can I get you something to drink, first?”

“Just water, Mary, thanks. I'm on duty tonight.”

“Okay.”

Mary rejoined Heather and Emily after Beck and Anita had been served.

Heather shook her head. “I have to get it together,” she hissed to Emily and Mary. “I work with him! I just need to hide my feelings and act professionally.” She looked sad for a moment. 'He would never think of me like that...”

Mary and Emily exchanged glances and kept silent.

Heather spent the next three days assessing the old equipment and making lists of what needed to be done for each one. She didn't speak to Beck for those two days, although she saw him in Bailey's each night; each time he was with Anita. Anita had apparently tired of the supply sergeant and had Beck in her sights again. In her misery, Heather worked harder than normal even though she was technically on holidays in an attempt to keep her mind off her embarrassment over her conversation with Beck.

On the afternoon of the fourth day there was a thunderous pounding on Heather's door and she opened it to find a furious Beck on her doorstep.

Heather's jaw dropped. “What -”

Beck pushed past her into the house. “What the hell are you doing, working on restoring old equipment when you're supposed to be on holidays?” Beck snapped.

“What?” Heather said again.

“I just came from Gray's office, where I have told him in no uncertain terms that he's an idiot. Somebody who didn't work in the fields for weeks is going to take over from you, starting immediately -.”

“ _What?_ ” Heather said again.

“- at least until you've had a chance to rest. Which is exactly what you're supposed to be doing right now, not this pet project of Gray's! Why didn't you come to me and tell me you were doing all that work? I would have put a stop to it from the start!”

“ _What?!_ ” Heather said again.

“And can't you say anything else?” Beck snapped.

“If you'd let me!” Heather snapped back. “What do you mean, I'm no longer working on the equipment? Why are you so  _angry_  with me?”

Beck drew a deep, calming breath. “I'm not angry at you,” he said. “Well, I am, but not just at you. You've been working like a dog for weeks in the fields and everyone else has taken the leave I offered them. But not you! You can't seem to say no when somebody asks you to do some work for them!”

Heather was taken aback. “I...I...” she stammered, “I like being needed,” she managed to say.

“Needed? They take advantage of you! And you let them!” Beck came closer and grasped her shoulders. He intently stared at her, his dark eyes wide and searching. “You need to take care of yourself, Heather, and rest when you can. You never know when you'll get this opportunity again.”

Heather gaped at him and tried to ignore the warmth of his hands on her shoulders. “What -” she started, and with an exasperated growl, Beck lowered his head and kissed her.

The kiss was hard and hot and intensely erotic, his tongue sweeping her mouth. Beck moved his hands to Heather's head so he could control the angle of the kiss, deepening the kiss and demanding a response from her.

Heather felt overwhelmed, both by the sheer carnality of the kiss and by the force of her reaction to it. She clung to him, eagerly opening her mouth for him, kissing him back with as much hunger as he was showing her. She felt like she was falling or flying and was startled to suddenly feel the wall against her back.

The kiss intensified, and became even more carnal when Beck cupped one of her breasts in his hand and caressed her through her t-shirt. Heather could dimly hear whimpering and realized it was her, and she felt a thrill of satisfaction when Beck groaned into her mouth as she feverishly tunneled her hands under his shirt to fiercely caress his back, that naked back that had fascinated her for weeks.

With an effort, Beck wrenched his lips from hers, and closed his eyes tightly as he panted for breath.

Heather felt stunned and bereft as she stared at him in shock. “What – why -?” she stuttered. She  _ached_ , she thought, actually  _ached_  with wanting him so much.

“I'm on duty in half an hour,” Beck explained pressing his damp forehead against hers and trying to catch his breath. “I wasn't – I hadn't expected this.”

“Me, either,” Heather whispered. They stood in silence for a moment as they struggled to calm themselves.

“Your hand isn't helping,” Heather finally sighed, regret clear in every syllable.

Beck reared back in astonishment, then looked where he was still cupping and gently massaging her breast. He stared for a long moment as he caressed her stiff nipple with his thumb. With a visible swallow, he slowly removed his hand although he couldn't seem to stop looking at her breasts, which only caused them to tighten more.

Beck closed his eyes and with an effort, stepped back from her, Heather's hands slowly sliding out from under his shirt. She felt very cold and lonely once his body wasn't pressed against hers, but the heat in his eyes when he looked at her again warmed her.

Beck glanced at his watch. “I still have five minutes,” he said softly.

Heather slowly heaved herself away from the wall and walked on shaking legs to the couch. She sat down and looked up at him, her eyes wide and puzzled.

“I  _did_  kiss you the other night, didn't I?” she said slowly.

Beck shook his head and sighed. “I kissed you. You were too drunk, and I shouldn't have done it. I honestly couldn't help myself. I'm sorry.”

“Why didn't you tell me when I was babbling in your office?”

“Because you looked so appalled by it all. And because we  _were_  in my office and I didn't think that was a good place to have that particular conversation.”

“Are you sorry about this?” Heather asked, vaguely gesturing between them.

“I'm sorry I have to leave in five minutes,” Beck said. “I'm not sorry about the rest of it.” He hesitated. “Are you sorry?” His face was calm but there was a hint of vulnerability in his eyes.

Heather stared at him. “No,” she said, “but I  _am_  scared.”

Beck blinked. “Scared? Why?”

“Because I've never felt anything like that before,” she waved vaguely in the direction of the wall they'd been pressed against. “Would we have made it into the bedroom, do you think?”

Beck swallowed hard. “We weren't going to make it away from the wall,” he said huskily.

Heather's eyes widened even more. “Oh,” she sighed. “ _Oh_.” She suddenly frowned at him. “What about Anita?”

“Anita is extremely – and apparently genuinely - smitten with my supply sergeant, but he seems indifferent. She's been asking for advice.”

“Every night?” Heather asked drily.

“Every night,” Beck sighed. “I may order him to take her on a date – at least it would change the conversation.”

Heather laughed a little at that and he smiled at her.

“What now?” Beck asked after a moment of charged silence.

“You have to go on duty,” she replied.

“I meant -”

“I know what you meant,” she smiled slowly at him. “If you want to come back tonight? We could -”

“I won't be back in Jericho for three days,” Beck sighed regretfully. “We need supplies. Why don't we go to Bailey's for supper the night I get back, maybe stay and dance for awhile, and we'll take it from there.”

“You mean...like a date?” Heather asked.

Beck smiled at her. “Yes,” he said patiently, “like a date.”

She blinked at him in silence for a moment and then she stood, relieved to find that her legs, while still shaking, weren't quite as weak as before.

“You have to go,” she said softly, “but yes, I would love to go to to Bailey's with you when you get back. Like a date.”

Heather caught her breath at Beck's slow grin. She walked him to the door where Beck turned to her. “No more work, Heather. You deserve a holiday and I will kick Gray's ass if he asks you to do anything more for the next few days.”

Heather nodded okay. She put a hand on his arm. “I want to kiss you good-bye,” she said shyly. “Will that be okay?”

“More than okay,” Beck replied softly.

They kissed gently, tightly controlled, taking the time to explore and learn each other's mouths. They broke the kiss just as gently, then Beck hissed, “Shit,” and kissed her again, hot and hungry, demanding a response which she gladly gave.

She sighed when they broke the kiss again. “Now you have to leave before your men come looking for you.”

He nodded and let her go with great reluctance. “I'll see you in three days,” he said, squared his shoulders, quickly opened the door and left the house. Heather watched him until he turned the corner on her block, giving her one last look over his shoulder. Then she closed the door, sagged against it, and slowly slid to the floor. Her body was on fire, but she had never been happier. Three days, she thought happily. Three days, and he'd be back. With a little judicious persuasion, she'd probably be able to convince him to have supper at her place instead of Bailey's. She hugged herself with a gleeful grin and began to plan for his return.

*/*/*/*/*


	4. Chapter 4

Two days later, as Heather was heading to Gracie's market, she saw a military jeep screech around the corner and speed towards the med-centre. She saw the jeep slide to a stop, and men leap out, most turning to carry injured men through the doors but one man sprinted towards the sheriff's office. She broke into a run when she recognized the men as those who had gone out with Beck on the supply run.

She burst into the med-centre, and saw Kenchy and the others bending over a blood-soaked man on a gurney, a man Heather was guiltily relieved to see wasn't Beck. She grabbed a corporal by the arm. “What's happened?” she demanded.

The corporal looked at the commander and the commander glanced at Heather and then Jake, Jimmy, Bill and Hawkins as they poured into the med-centre as well.

“We were attacked while on our supply mission,” the commander said, including everyone in his explanation. “We sustained heavy casualties, and our force was split in two. Major Beck ordered us to return to Jericho with our injured and warn the town that Ravenwood is back.”

“Damn it!” Jake exclaimed.

The commander nodded. “I need to gather reinforcements and put the rest of the troop and the town on alert. The Rangers had better get in your defensive positions. The Major didn't know how long they could hold them back. He's pinned under heavy fire, and his force suffered the most casualties. We have to get back.”

“I'm going with you,” Heather blurted.

“This is a combat situation, ma'am,” the commander snapped as Jimmy and Bill rushed out after a glance from Jake to begin mobilizing the Rangers. “No place – and no room – for anyone who can't handle herself in a fight.”

Heather glared at him. “Give me a gun, and we'll see who can't handle themselves.”

“I'm sorry, ma'am, but we can't afford to protect you and I don't have time to argue.” He glanced at Jake. “Throw her in jail if you have to, but she stays here.”

Jake nodded and put a hand on her shoulder. She shook it off angrily. “If Beck need me and I'm not there -”

The commander's face softened. “He needs you to be safe, ma'am. If we take you out there and something happens to you...” he trailed off. “We need him to be a soldier, ma'am.”

Heather glared at him and then she deflated, nodding slowly. “You're right,” she conceded, “that was stupid.” She straightened and glared at him again. “But you bring him back to Jericho, you understand? No matter what -” and her voice broke.

“I understand,” the commander replied gently, then motioned for his men to follow him.

“How far out were you?” Jake asked. “If Beck and his men failed to hold Ravenwood, how much time do we have?”

“He's about two hours out,” the commander said. “We'd finished our mission earlier than expected, so we were closer to Jericho than planned.” With a nod at both of them, he left the med-centre. Heather dimly heard the spray of gravel as the Humvee tore off again, back towards the battle they'd left behind.

Jake put a cautious hand on Heather's shoulder. “He'll be okay,” he soothed.

Heather nodded. “Sure,” she replied tonelessly. “I'll be at Bailey's,” she added and walked sightlessly out of the med-centre. Jake and Hawkins exchanged glances and Hawkins said, “I'll meet up with you in a minute,” he said.

Jake nodded and headed off to take his place with the Rangers.

Heather was sitting at a corner booth, staring sightlessly at nothing when Darcy slid into the seat across from her. Heather blinked. “Oh,” she said.

“Robert sent me,” Darcy said and gave a tentative smile. “He's worried about you.”

Heather blinked at her. “That's...really sweet,” she said surprised. “I'll be okay. It's just that I have no role unless Ravenwood breaches the security of the town.”

“Oh?” Darcy said.

“I'm assigned to Bailey's,” Heather explained. “We have the still -”

“Molotov cocktails,” Darcy said, the light dawning.

“Yes,” Heather nodded. “We also have guns and ammo in the basement. We're close to city hall, the sheriff's office, and the med-centre – basically, we're the absolute last line of defense.”

“Just you and Mary?” Darcy asked.

“No – about a dozen of us. But we're prepared – we don't need to gather until we have reports of battles close to the borders of Jericho.”

Silence descended over the pair until Heather blinked and refocused on Darcy. “I'm sorry,” she said, “but why did Hawkins send you?”

“Like I said, he's worried about you. And I know...” Darcy hesitated. “I know what it's like to sit, and wait, and wonder if the man I love is dead or alive. And knowing there's nothing I can do about it.”

“The man I love,” Heather mused.

“You do care about him, don't you?”

“Oh, yes,” Heather nodded. “Love just seems so... _tame_  a word to describe how I feel about him. And I only truly realized it when the commander said he was out there – under fire.”

“It takes great courage to be a soldier,” Darcy mused softly, “but sometimes I think it takes even more courage to love one.”

Heather nodded and smiled tentatively at her. “Thank you,” she said. “Where are Sam and Allison?”

“At Jimmy's. Margaret's a gem.”

“You're welcome to stay here,” Heather offered. “We both have soldiers out there today.”

Darcy reached out and covered Heather's clasped hands with her own. “We do. I would love to stay. What can I do to help?”

Heather was grateful for Darcy's warmth and kindness. “I'll show you the routine,” she said. “We drill every week, so I think we're ready.”

“I had no idea,” Darcy marvelled after Heather showed her the storage room of bottles, rags, matches and lighters.

“Nobody really does, except for those of us who do it,” Heather admitted. “Mary and I and about a dozen or so others just got tired of feeling useless. We realized Bailey's was at the centre of town and could help protect the main buildings. We made a plan and we drill each week, using water to simulate making the Molotov cocktails in the shortest amount of time and the least amount of spillage.”

Darcy grinned. “I'm impressed.”

Heather shrugged. “I hope we never need to use it,” she said.

They left the storage room so Heather could show Darcy the strategic locations where people would be stationed to throw the bottles once they were lit. The windows and walls had been reinforced with steel, to help slow bullets down.

Darcy whistled. “Who thought all of this out?” she asked.

“Mary and I, together.”

“Don't listen to her,” Mary said behind them. “It was all Heather. I just did what she told me to do.”

Heather shook her head.

“Trucks are coming,” Mary told them. “Military trucks – but whether Ravenwood or Beck -”

But she was speaking to air; Heather had already pushed past her and was outside although close enough to the doors to duck back inside if the trucks proved to be Ravenwood. She watched as the trucks roared into town and came to a halt at the med-centre and the sheriff's office.

More people came out onto the street when they realized the trucks contained Beck's men. Heather watched with her heart in her throat until she saw Beck jump out of one of the Humvees, barking orders at his men who scurried to carry them out.

She started walking towards him, almost not trusting her eyes. His uniform was bloodied, but he seemed to be moving alright. One of his men spoke to him and Beck turned and saw her. Beck spoke to his subordinate, handed him the helmet Beck held under his arm, then began to walk towards her, his gaze never leaving hers.

They met in the middle of the street. Heather was vaguely aware that Jake and Emily had come up to the soldiers, their weapons still in their hands and were speaking animatedly to Beck's men. Then everything else receded into the background until only Beck was left.

“Are you all right?” she demanded.

“Yes.”

“Is Ravenwood coming?”

“No.”

“Are your men waiting for orders?”

“No.”

Heather nodded, cupped his face, stood on tiptoes, and kissed him hard as he gathered her close. It wasn't the unbridled kisses they'd shared a few days earlier, but it held promise and passion and something more than sex.

Heather slowly broke the kiss and stared at him. “Go do your job,” she said softly. “I'll wait for you.”

He nodded wordlessly. “I'll find you,” he promised, then turned and went back to his men and a grinning Jake and Emily.

Heather watched him with a smile then she turned and returned to Bailey's.

######


End file.
